Day 1: Untouched.

So, while crossing Halsted street, to catch a bus up to Boystown to get a drink at the Town Hall Pub with some buddies of mine, I was thinking about sex.

Which is no surprise. I think about sex often. So do you, if you're honest about it.

But I wasn't thinking about boobs or screwing or orgasms or reliving some dirty-ass memory. Instead, i was thinking about sex and my own sex drive and how often I want it and did I used to want it more. You know, sort of doing a sexual inventory, of sorts.

I think that I used to be very good at sex. I think that I did a remarkably good job, tending to the needs of the women I was with. In college, I was a maniac, but a focused one. I was always up for "one more" and "oh, let's try this position I saw in a porn, once". An absolute maniac.

But that was ten or more years ago. And I think times have changed. I think my performance and stamina have changed. Lessened. I think that they've lessened, somehow.

The last girl I was with was a maniac. If I'd met her in college, and been into meeting her challenge, A.) we would've both been chapped and rubbed raw after a single weekend and B.) we would've gotten absolutely nothing done in a weekend. But meeting her now, well, it didn't go well. I tried, honestly, I tried. But she always wanted more. More of everything. Not size. No problems there, mind you. But longer sessions, deeper screwing, screwing more often. She also wanted to be strangled, which might tell me that there was something else going on beyond my own physical limitations. But still, those nights, when she would lay next to me and say, "Hey, you wanna do it again?" and I would think, "Christ, lady, I can't do it again. Let me go to sleep" and then I would reluctantly roll over to her and take an increasingly disappointing run at it.

You see? Lessened.

Alone, though, devoid of a partner, it's a different story. I wake up in the morning and think, "God, that as a terrible nightmare. I should probably wank off. That will make me feel better." Or if my roommate is out with his girlfriend, I think, "Hm, I better go toss one off. Dunno when he'll be back. Better make use of the time before he gets home." Late at night, a night not unlike this one, I'll finish blogging or checking email or downloading music into the ipod and then click over to some amazing, free porn site as a second thought, Boom, next thing I know, I've had an orgasm and want to go to bed. I sleep very, very well.

So, perhaps things aren't lessened all that much. I'm very active, sexually. Just not with my partner. (And in the interest of full disclosure, I would mention that I could not match the libido of the girlfriend before this last one, either. Again, she was a maniac and I was the waste of flesh, willing to do anything with my face and hands that she wanted, because my poor, poor dick needed some down-time.)

This was the back-story that was racing around in my mind, as I crossed Halsted street to catch the #8 bus.

I used to be pretty good in bed.
Am I still?
What if I'm not and I just don't know it?
What if I leave girls unsatisfied and they're just too polite to tell me?
Christ, I don't want to be bad in bed. That would be terrible.
Well, it would be, if I were dating someone.
But I might date someone, so maybe I better get in shape, now, to be ready for then.
I better hit the gym. All this extra weight can't be helping. It's got to be affecting my blood flow. I probably better re-think my diet too.
I should also think about cutting down on all the tossing off. Every morning? Every night? And most showers? Seriously, maybe the problem with keeping up with my past lovers was that I was already worn out from my own sessions alone, that there wasn't anything else for anyone else.
So, maybe I better cut down on all of the self-love.
Maybe I better just cut it out altogether.

And that's when it hit me. My next experiment. My next challenge for myself.

I'm going to swear off from jerking off for as long as I possibly can.

Let's just see how a little time off from sex, altogether, affects the libido. Will a man, denied water, want it that much more? Or will he forget what it tastes like altogether?

That's what we'll find out, together, you and I.
Today is Saturday, Nov.15, 2008. Day 1 of "The Untouched Challenge". Let's see how long I can go without masturbation and what this deprivation does to my body and mind. I'll post about it occasionally here, in the blog, to keep you informed of the mental and physical effects. Of course, I'll want to blog about other things, too. So, let's discretely keep track of my days without self-injury with a handy tracker in my sidebar. I'll call it "Days without Self Injury" and update it daily, until I break down and touch myself... or end up in a clock-tower with a rifle, picking off coeds and screaming, "Who's fucked now, sister?!?" the counter will track my days off. In essence, you can play along from home, but still keep on doing what you want to be doing.

Let's take this journey together, you and I, and see what lies on the other side.

Cheers,
Mr.B